The Only Exception
by KatsuMegStirFry
Summary: KxZ perhaps ZxK/Happiness something Zero has always longed for, deep down, and once he finally has it in his grasp, that Pureblood returns and rips it all away. Is it so much fun to play around with him like a toy?  Damn stupid summaries!
1. Prologue

Prologue

"_Falling in love always seemed so pointless to me. I mean, it was all the same. You meet someone, fall for them, and then what? Fight? Cry? Hurt each other? Nothing but conflict will ever follow. Sure, you got your romantic evenings and sweet moments, but in the end…you're nothing but two separate people living two separate lives._

_You can never be as close to them as you'd like. No matter how hard you try, it's more than likely that they're just going to run off with someone else and break your heart. Eventually you may marry, but it's either because you knocked some girl up and can't pay child support or something like that, or you're obligated for some reason. There's no such thing as true love, and maybe it's that fact that deterred me from taking a chance with someone."_

Love does nothing but cause mischief. That used to be my motto. But now I see that it does so much more. Experiencing love is likely the worst thing that could ever happen to me, a Level E. I know now that love will burrow so deep into your heart, ripping and tearing down everything, bulldozing every foundation of moral sanity and logic, leaving room for excuses, lies, and losing one's most valued possessions (both real and figurative). Sadly, it was the fact that I stayed far away from trouble that made it come looking for me, and boy, did it find me.

I'm telling you this right now because I may not have another chance. I can hear the doctors giving orders, people shouting, and the sound of objects whizzing by quickly. It sounds like I'm submerged in a full bathtub and somebody keeps pulling my head up and shoving it back underwater. Voices are sharp, too loud, and then they become dull and fade. I squint and roll my head to the side as bright, fluorescent lights roll past on the ceiling above me. Unlike my hearing, my sight is way too focused and is beginning to add to the throbbing migraine in the back of my brain.

I can feel blood trickle from my right shoulder, my back and lower stomach, and my right kneecap. My hearing suddenly clears up again and I can hear a familiar voice. It's Kaname. He's shouting. He never shouts. Kaname is normally so quiet and civilized. There's no way he's shouting for my sake, especially not after last night. Not after all the shit that happened. But still I turn my head and look up at my side. Next to some nurse in green scrubs I can see the gleam of his eyes, the glimmer of his slightly curly hair, and the sheer terror with which he stares at me.

"K…ahna….me," I manage to whisper through the blood that drips from my mouth before someone places an oxygen mask over my face. Everything soon blurs and melds together as whatever chemical they're using to put me to sleep begins to work. His voice stays though, and I can feel someone's cold hand on mine.

"Don't worry Zero, everything will be…" His voice fades. As does the world around me. Now it's just me and my dreams. I've watched enough TV to know where I am now. The emergency room. The doctors are preparing to save my life, but I have a feeling they won't succeed. After all, Dahlia does have knack for predicting the future.

You're probably wondering why I'm in the hospital, and who the hell Dahlia is. She's my fiancé, or was anyway. I'm pretty sure we're over, since she just tried to murder me. You'd think I would be devastated now, or in a catatonic state of sorrow and resentment. Truth is, I'm over that shit. I'm pissed that I fell for it; love's trap. If I live to see another day, I swear I'll kill that woman, and her little dog too. That fucking dog, I've always hated it and it's stupid little outfits. As a matter of fact, I hate everyone who dresses their dogs. I'm going to kill Dahlia if it's that last thing I do.

But before I get to that, I'll fill you in on what's happened so far. It's a long story, so take a seat and read carefully, because I'm only going to tell it this once.

_It all started on a Thursday afternoon, when the sun was out but the wind that blew felt like we were in Antarctica. I was running as fast as I could so I could make it to…where was I going again? I can't even remember. All I can remember when I think of that day is that when I turned around the corner she was standing there in her pink dress. She looked like she was made of pure sunlight…_


	2. Ch 1 Of all the Flowers

_Um, well, sorry for not updating. My hard drive burned out and I had to send it to go get fixed. Finally, when it came back, I got to writing, but the Internet was broken so I didn't get to post until today when I got it back :]_

_I promise to catch up real quick!_

Chapter 1: Of all the flowers in the world, it had to be her…

"_It all started on a Thursday afternoon, when the sun was out but the wind that blew felt like we were in Antarctica. I was running as fast as I could so I could make it to…where was I going again? I can't even remember. All I can remember when I think of that day is that when I turned around the corner she was standing there in her pink dress. She looked like she was made of pure sunlight…"_

I was late. Thirty minutes late, to be exact. Boss was going to wring my neck. The picture of him grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and shaking me until I resembled something like a limp noodle played over and over like a broken record in my mind. Then it manifested into some vision where he turned into the Hulk and threw my toothpick of a body through the floor of his office and the three tech support agencies below. I shiver, then pick up my pace.

Stopped at the oh-so-overpriced Starbucks to get a to go cup of black coffee. Checked the time: **8:15am**. Choked. Burned my mouth. Tossed the coffee. Ran.

You may be asking, "If you're already late, why are you stopping for a cup of coffee?" Well boys and girls, it is a well known fact that nocturnal beings slumber at night. I work as a photographer for The Sun, one of London's most famous tabloid newspapers. During the night I'm a vampire hunter. Cliché, I know.

The thing is, taking pictures of the important "people" around London allowed me to keep an eye on the nobility that worked there. Vampires were everywhere in great old Britain, and every five minutes there was a body found on the side of the road, drained of blood. But just then, vampires were, for once, the least of my worries. Larry, my big bad boss, was the slave driver of the entire newspaper system. If I didn't turn in the requested photos on time, I would be fired, again. Well it was that bastard's fault after all, since he always demanded they be turn in three days before printing, as well as early in the morning.

So, three blocks from my destination, I raced against time. Cars beeped and honked as I jumped and tumbled over them. People cussed and yelled when I barreled into them, or knocked their stuff over. I tuned it all out, focused on that one spot around the corner. If I entered the doors of that office building, I would surely be home free. So I ran like the wind.

The scarf I wore snapped and waved like a purple flag in the wind. There I was, running up that hill, silver hair flying and bouncing carelessly around. It was down to my shoulders, almost like Ichiru's had been. Something throbbed in my chest as his name entered my mind, spreading like poison. But I was quick to cure it, smudging all thought of the past into the back of my mind where it could torment me only in my darkest dreams. And all of a sudden the corner raced by as I reached the top of the hill. I unintentionally ran out onto the crosswalk, just as the light turned green. Cars swerved and beeped annoyingly as I skidded to a stop and began to turn back around. My mailbag twisted around my neck and the weight threw me down against the asphalt as I slipped on some gravel, doing a sort of clumsy little dance before landing on my ass. I scrambled to my feet and quickly ran, cheeks burning with embarrassment as the people in their cars laughed at my clumsy little slip-up.

I got back to my office building and entered the front doors, waved to Dorris, the receptionist, and then ran to the nearest elevator. "I'll call him and tell him you've made it!" Dorris yelled after me. Over and over again I pressed the "up" button. "Shit, shit, _shit_!" I was so freaking late, I may as well have been coming to pick up my equipment from the developing room and receive my final paycheck. The little arrow lit up but the doors didn't open fast enough. After a span of about ten seconds, I kicked the wall and made for the stairwell. Larry was going to kill me.

The run up the first six flights of stairs wasn't just physically draining for a guy who hadn't slept a wink in nearly thirty-six hours, but mentally exhausting as well. I can remember how loud Larry's voice rang through the earpiece of my phone. The sound was scratchy and annoying, and it was clearly easy for any random passerby to tell he'd been smoking for thirty-plus years. Thankfully, the only other sounds in the entire stairwell were the echoes of my shoes stomping against the cement floor and the rough sound of my gasping for air.

It was only when I reached the eighth floor did I give up and exit out into the next lobby door. It seemed to be a hallway full of small corporate meeting rooms. I could hear the voices of various people discussing software platforms, marketing strategies, everything A-Z in the Wall Street dictionary. Half ignoring the droll whispers, I ran as fast as possible into the next branch of hallways, and the next and the next, looking for an elevator. I never knew I could get lost in an office building, especially not one I worked at. Suddenly I heard a familiar "ding!" and the sound of automated doors opening. There were quiet voices and the sound of footsteps coming from around the corner at the end of the next hall. It was so far away, I'd never make that elevator in time!

But still, I ran, camera swinging, scarf and hair flying. My body barreled into the wall at the end of the hallway and I pushed off of it and ran down one more corridor, hoping dearly that I would make it. Light from large, floor-to-ceiling, Plexiglas windows suddenly flooded my vision as I flew around that last corner, slipping again on the tiled floor, but scrambling back up just as quickly. "No, no, no, no, no…" I kept mumbling the words as I got back up.

I lifted my head to catch a glimpse of the passengers in the elevator, to see if any of them would wait for me. It was then that every molecule in my body sang with instant paralysis, another obstacle in my wake. But, oh, was it a heavenly obstacle indeed. Her glossy black hair flowed around her shoulders, reflecting light that created a beautiful halo around her angelic face. She wore a rosy pink dress that wrapped around her whole body, revealing some, and hiding most. That was all I could glimpse of her, squished between all the old, sweaty salary men in that elevator, before a man pressed a button and the doors began to close. My shoulders slumped, sure I'd be fired and also positive that I could never meet a girl like that again in my lifetime. The image of her pink lips and bright violet eyes ghosted behind my eyelids as I dropped my head.

All of a sudden a girl's firm voice yelled out, "Wait!"

I looked up. The girl put her thin, pale arm in the way of the doors, which drew back on their own. The men in the elevator looked confused as she beckoned to me, french manicure glittering in the fluorescent light. "Ah…um, thank you!" I quickly made my way to the elevator and squeezed my way into the crammed thing, feeling like a certain smelly little fish. She looked up at me and grinned as the man at the front of the crowd pressed the close button. I smiled back thinly and focused my attention somewhere not down her blouse. Although it was so hard because she had such big --"Ding!"

The doors opened again so suddenly, on another floor. Nearly all the men poured out of the small space and my unusually queasy stomach had never felt better. Now it was just me, her, and some shady guy in the background, who watched us casually. I should have looked at him then, otherwise my current problems may not have developed later, but as the usual grounds for love go, I had eyes only for the pretty girl in the pretty dress.

"Um, thanks for, um…stopping the elevator." _Smooth, Zero, she won't think you're a dork at _all_._

But her voice replied so sweetly, like sugar was physically being added to our conversation. She had an accent that I couldn't place. Her eyes sparkled like Christmas lights, and her teeth were white and straight, but still human. Evidence of braces and great oral hygiene, not of surgery or bleaching. She had creamy skin everywhere, but it wasn't perfect (a slight bruise here, a scratch there, probably from running into things), and that's what made her perfect to me.

"No problem. If you don't mind, can I ask you a question?" Her eyes were also analyzing my body. My slight, yet muscular build, my porcelain skin (not helped by London weather), and…awfully unique hair color.

"Sure you can." I was slightly disappointed now, positive she would ask the questions every other stupid, modern girl asked these days. Their voices played in my head, blending into a ruckus, an annoying buzzing that even led me away from the conversation as I tried to rid my brain of the terrible noise. Of course she would ask something along the lines of: "Do you have a skin disease?", or: "How does your stylist manage to get such a light color?", or, my favorite: "Are into vampires?"

But when she asked, I was quite sure I'd misheard. "Excuse me, could you repeat that?" I blinked.

She looked at me funny, smiled, and asked again. "I _said_, 'Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?'"

I couldn't answer. No, I couldn't even speak. This girl wanted to go out? She didn't ask me a stupid question about my hair? And more over, she liked coffee? _Oh pinch me, I must be dreaming!_

Suddenly the door dinged again and she became anxious. "Well? …Ah! Hurry, just gimme your number before the doors close!" I still couldn't move, infatuated heart and soul by this creature who was shoving the automated doors back into place once again. Slowly, naïve little me came to his senses and scrambled for a pen. I found one in my coat pocket, but was missing even a small piece of paper, or a sticky note. My hopes dropped once again on their psychopathic rollercoaster. But it seemed this girl had a knack for reading my thoughts.

She smiled as she held out her hand palm upwards and told me to write it there. It sort of killed me to see fine unmarked skin become dirty and covered in the smudgy ink of the ballpoint pen, but my cheeks heated up as I thought of all the unseen placed where she could be easily hiding a tattoo. I exited the elevator and found myself looking into violet eyes once again, transfixed, watching the colors swirl around in them.

"Oh, and by the way, my name is Dahlia." She smiled.

It was odd. At that moment, watching her, I could feel something, some unknown force worm its way into my brain. I think it was then that she, the queen of horrors, had begun to take over my mind. When I looked at her smiling face, I heard the laughter of children, the ringing of church bells, and the soothing sounds of ocean waves beating upon the shore. But there was another hidden melody, disguised by the whoosh of raging water and the shouts of loud prepubescent humans, hard to pick out and hard to name. I liked it. She was just so enchanting and mysterious.

Then the doors shut, and I started for a moment. It felt as if I had been asleep, but dreaming so vividly. I vaguely registered the shape of the person in the elevator standing beside me, staring me down. Before a name of the shadowed face--hidden so subtly under a 1950s style fedora--could register in my brain, something large and quite heavy connected with my skull and succeeded in knocking me to the roughly carpeted floors of the office.

"Hoy! Zero, you're an hour and five minutes late!" Oh, where did the time go? "You better 'ave some good shots, or you'll pay quite dearly!" The heavy English accent was more than enough indicator that it was Larry, the boss from hell. _My _boss from hell. He'd tossed a whole stack of last weeks papers directly at my head _today_. What would it be next week? A fax machine?

I rubbed the area above my left ear, where the newspapers had made purchase against my head. I could feel a droplet of blood dripping down my jaw where I no doubt had a paper cut. I grimaced, but felt no pain sear up in my chest. I hadn't felt that pain in years, even when I was starving for blood. "Yeah, yeah, I got them shots of yours," I growled at him.

"Good," he said, and turned away, beckoning me into his office so he could have a look-see.

"Got a swift kick in the ass for you too!," I mumbled as I shuffled in. The door was nearly closed when a shiver coursed through me. The shady figure was still standing there, watching me, snorting at my comment. Then the door was closed, he was gone, and the shiver left as quickly as it had come.

I turned to Larry as he settled, fat and round as usual, in his comfortable swivel chair, sheltered behind a large, expensive-looking oak desk. He ran a hand through his thinning crop of auburn-red hair and grinned at me.

"Show me what'cha got!"

_Oh, my, gosh…_

_School is out for the summer, which means more fan fictions…._

_However, I'm not sure how that's gonna work with my quite recent…..assault ticket D:_


	3. Ch 2 Old Life Meets New Life

_Mm, short hair is nice when you have dry summers *heart*_

_A/N: By the way, the following people are fictional, and all likenesses to real beings (as cool as it might be) are purely coincidence. Please don't sue me for stealing your name (even though I made them up myself :D)_

_And also, in other places, a tramp is a homeless person, not just a slut like it is in America ;D_

**Ch. 2: New Life Meets Old Life...**

Austin Burgess; An English architect that helped to refine the way modern society designs and builds their cities. Not only revered as an esteemed pioneer in the works of art in the human world, but as well as an influential component in the defense mechanisms of the vampire world. Rarely leaves the safety of his home, and is often seen having tea in front of the large bay windows of his library, reading a book by firelight. Or sometimes, with no lights at all.

Conroy Crosby; A wise leader in philosophical terms. Works as an ingenious astronomer and scientist working for the Russian Federal Space Agency, unfurling the mysteries of wormholes and collapsed stars. He is also a great politician in the world of the night. In medieval titles he would probably serve as the King's most trusted adviser. Sort of like Takuma was to Kaname, but less of a "possibly friends" scenario, and more of a "I'll poison you and steal your kingdom and beautiful wife, hahah, I win!" type of thing going on there. This man is said to be able to predict future events by reading the stars. No shit. He's won the lotto nearly six times. Now _that's _unnatural.

Zhivago Chaplin is a German-American politician. At some point in his life he was a senator for some western state in the shape of a near perfect square. Something, something, "color red", I think it was. One of those named by the Spaniards. In the vampire and human worlds he is knows to get involved in scandals and affairs, and con his rivals, ruining their reputations, credit reports, and sometimes even their lives. He often retreats to England to escape the fuzz (y'know, the government's drones?). Zhivago has a trademark scar beneath his lower lip where an aggressive lover was said to have bitten him so hard that they pierced his lip!

And here's one of my personal favorites; Scarlet Gourdan. Recognized as the princess of all mafia worldwide, she turns even the largest and most fearless of men to dust in a matter of moments. She's not a vampire, but is considered the Council's most skilled tactician and executioner. Vampires around the world take no notice of the fact that she's human and bow down before her, kissing her trademark shiny black boots. She's killed armies of human men, and would probably have no problem at all taking out a few hundred vampires. The only reason she works as a Council dog is because they supply her with tough sturdy men who know how to get jobs done, and get them done right. It was when I was younger that this bloody-eyed, coldblooded woman spurred me on to kill as many vampires as possible, and avenge my dead family.

Cherry Fiasco (name legally changed) is a well-known gay adult-film star. He's a boy, a vampire, but if he doesn't physically _show _you, you would almost definitely deny it. This guy looks like a fourteen-year-old pubescent girl, with a high-pitched, sweet voice to match, and delicate, slender hands. He's almost twenty in human years, almost ten in vampire years, I would guess. His angelic appearance makes him perfect prey for old pureblood cretins to play with, which benefits him greatly. Like a chaperone he fools around with all them big-wig vamps, earning the trust and secrets of some younger, stupid generations. Cherry uses that on them, turns from angel to devil in a matter of minutes. He plays no significant role in the vampire world, except that he gets away with things he normally would be punished or killed for. In the human world he's just one more trouble-making celebrity. It always disturbs me how the people who seem the most trusting and accepting to a person always, always, _always_ turn out to be two-faced bastards.

"Mm, this is a good one…and that one, you should have taken it from a slightly lower angle," Larry critiques me as he absently scans over all my photos, analyzing them. Meanwhile I, Zero Kiryuu, ponder all these people and more, not listening a bit. Lately these nobles had all been going haywire. Zhivago divorcing yet _another _wife, Gourdan's L.A. home apparently being littered with corpses and tortured rotting bodies of tramps everywhere. Even the quiet and reserved architect had resorted to violence against the paparazzi last weekend. The Zero from that night, stationed high up in a tree nearby, zoomed in with his camera and caught the artist right as he turned and slugged some guy in the jaw. The disturbing image of his crazy red eyes, grinding teeth, and the blur of his fist as it connected with the reporter's face was sure to be front page material. I could see it then, so vividly in my mind;

"**EXTRA EXTRA; Read all about it!**

_**Page I**_

**Burgess Assaults Press?**

[insert image of demonic Burgess here]"

Still I smiled as the fat, ginger-haired man grinned at the last picture in the stack. It was when I flew to Milan, in search of my childhood idol. There in her photo paper prison she sat, lounging at a small garden table in the back of a cozy café. I'd gotten a perfect snapshot from his angle on a park bench across the river. The woman's dirty blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face and the red beret perched atop her head accented her crimson blood-colored eyes. It was probably the best picture anyone had ever taken of the princess. She looked dreamily up into the blue cloud-dotted Milan sky as any other woman would have, sheltered by the shadows that cascaded from the large building that was Café Butter Crème.

Who would have thought, the mob's baddest boss could be caught daydreaming? I stifled a snicker at the thought. Even though she was bad ass, I guessed Scarlet could still be as cute as any other girl. But for some reason, when I thought that, something in my brain ticked and sent a shock through my body.

No, I thought, Even she couldn't match up to the sweet angel I met today. No one's eyes could make me feel the way hers did. And definitely no one could make church bells ring in my head.

Yes, there was something different about Dahlia and other girls. Something that made her interesting. In my body I felt a deep yearning for her. A hunger not for her blood but for knowledge about her. Had she dyed her hair to get such a glittery black? Was her skin just dusted with expensive make-up? Did she wear contacts? Was she a messenger sent from heaven? There were just too many things I wanted to know about her, and so many I wanted-no, needed-to ask. Words of hers played over and over in my blurry little head.

"_Wanna go out for coffee?" _I loved the way she also seemed normal, and dependant on what I call the commoner's sleep medication_._

"_Can I ask you a question?" _I loved the cute way she influenced people with her childish class and polite manner.

"_Hurry!" _I loved the way she yelled. It was so aggressive and demanding, yet cushioned by the sweet tinkle of wind chimes and the sounds of birds on a sunny spring morning. If her words were poison, I would assume they would be a special brand of cocaine, killing me slowly, but making feel so damn good.

Dahlia was a new improvement in my dull life. She would bring change, definitely. We would make a great couple, me with my purple scarves and her and her pink dresses. Maybe, if our relationship progressed, she could move in. Images suddenly flashed in my head of us in the shower, my hands undressing her body, revealing every inch of pale, unmarked flesh that was so sadly hidden from my eyes.

It was easy to tell a blush had crept across my cheeks. It seared and burned like a scar that never healed. But I could even hear her calling my name in such a soft, baby-like voice.

"Z…e..ro….Ze…..ro. Zero..Zero. ZERO!"

I jumped, then shook my head, dazed. The baby voice had suddenly turned scratchy and annoying, like the buzz you get in your ear when a person talks about you behind your back.

"Ah , now that we've gotten you back down to Earth, let's discuss the position of where you were standing and how it can be improved next time…" Blah blah, freakin' blah!

Reality came back in a blur. Once again it was like being awoken from the best dream. I was slightly disappointed that it hadn't really happened, but thankful that the dream hadn't gotten any further than it had, or else I would have some serious explaining to do about my mysterious arousal. Like, who _would_ get an arousal while discussing angle positions and sun glare? With a red-headed fat scratchy-voiced Englishman to boot?

And anyway, was Larry's voice just used as a substitute for my beautiful fantasy-girl's voice? I tried not to gag. He looked at me with oddest expression as I bit my lower lip and tried to block out all thoughts of Dahlia. But the image of her ghostly eyes stuck in my head, throughout the entire conversation. Always watching, as if she were waiting for something interesting to happen.

I exited the building with a huge amount of money burning a hole in my pocket. The wind had died down some and the sun had warmed the air to a bearable temperature. I was halfway to my flat when my phone began to ring. I growled as I realized the sound was on. A default tune blared from my coat pocket, mimicking the sound of robots and the techno beats of the television ad my phone service aired all the time. I avoided odd looks and glances directed toward me as I fumbled for the phone. I flipped open the top; an unknown number. Could it be Dahlia?

The phone was at my ear the moment I pressed the answer button.

"..uh.."

Her voice was like the sweetest nectar running down my throat and into my body, awakening something that I had never felt before. I could even hear her smile as she spoke.

"Um, hello?"

"Ah, oh, uh, hey Dahlia!"

"Hey, you what's funny? You never gave me your name."

"What?"

"Your name, sweetheart. I think you tried to write it on my hand but the name was smudged and the numbers were just barely legible. Maybe my hand rubbed against something..." She trailed of thoughtfully.

I cringed, sure that she didn't smudge the ink herself, my handwriting was just that bad. "Oh, well, my name is Zero." Oh, crap! Did I just say my name with an accent?

"Why hello there _Zero_," she teasingly pronounced my name slowly, with a slightly nasal Japanese accent. "I recall that we had a date today. Wanna go out to lunch? Pick a place downtown and we can meet up."

"Um," My mind went blank for a split-second. I just got a huge paycheck, but living expenses in London were ghastly all on their own, so there was no way I could take her to any five-star restaurant any time soon.

That's when an idea flicked that poor, neglected light switch in my mind from "never used" to "on". You see I was, and still am living in a small (and quite compact) apartment that sits upstairs from a bar/diner. The old couple who ran the place set me up with their spare flat. It had a bathroom in the corner, and a kitchen that also served as a living room, complete with a ratty old couch. Since my roommate and I had opposite schedules, we shared a bedroom, but I'm pretty sure he slept on the couch anyway. Hell no, I never planned to take her up _there_, at least not until I cleaned up a bit, but I could get us a discount on some decent food there (as well as coffee), since I helped out with the cooking and waited tables during my free time. And hell, the food was definitely better then half the other sleazy bars I'd been to in this town, but maybe that was because I was the cook.

"Have you ever been to a bar called _Roscoe's_?"

"The one over-looking the river? With a view of Big Ben? Yeah, I've been there with my girlfriends before. Er, I mean, my friends that are-,"

"Your _girl_friends. I get it, I get it."

"Uh, hahah, yeah. So, you wanna meet up there?"

"Yeah. By the telephone booth," I set up the time and place where we would meet in a few hours and get to know each other over fish and chips and maybe a beer or two. "Yeah. I'll see you later. Bye."

I stuffed my cell in my pocket again and booked down the street once again. This was my first date with a girl, and not just any girl, but a beautiful, gorgeous, goddess of a woman. Halfway into crossing a busy road, a thought hit me like a ton of bricks. It tingled up my spine and made me shiver as I slowly made my way to the other side of the street. No, it couldn't be... I'd been on one before hadn't I? I thought hard. I wracked my brain for any memory of any place, at any time that I had been with a girl. Nothing came back. I was paralyzed with fear as I clutched a street sign for support as I felt my knees begin to give out. Had my younger self been so wrapped up in his hatred for the world and its blood-sucking leeches that he blocked out any chance at love that came his way? A headache started to pulse in my brain as the noises from that TV trivia show played annoyingly in my head.

As the host would say, "And the answer is..." he'd pause as he opened the envelope with the correct answer in it. "—Yes!"

Oh no. This was my first date.

I heard the shower stop as soon as my house key turned in the lock. My roomie had definitely heard me, or felt my presence anyway. I sighed and stepped through the front door, setting down my heavy mailbag and camera. Keeping my coat on I took a half-step to the door of my room, just about to open the door when it was slammed in my face. I watched, hand over nose, as the stupid bastard exited from my room (which was also the only way into the bathroom) with only a towel wrapped around his waist. What's wrong with that, you ask? Only the fact that _he _is really a _she_. Physically anyway. This girl has a concrete mindset that she is a male with a female body. When I first met her I thought she was a complete nutcase, talking about being raised as a boy, that the fact he body was female didn't make a difference. When the Hunter Association threw us together to live as colleagues and sometimes-partners I got to know her. She was only around fourteen or fifteen, but the kid could really make a person bleed. Somewhere along the line I began to refer to her as a man. And she really did act like one. It could be scary.

Nowadays I just refer to the kid as Jack_, _a really common boy's name,because he never revealed his true name to me. His bouncy chest hadn't phased me in years because he was always parading around the apartment in his panties alone, attracting the attention of perverted old men with binoculars across the river. It was like he had no idea peeping toms were spying in on his private life. If he did notice in public however, someone was gonna lose their dick, and obviously it wouldn't be Jack. But even though he could clearly hold his own, and hold others' own as well, something tugged on my big-brother-reflexes whenever the guy was in trouble. Jack may think he's a man, but he had (and still has) hair so long that he couldn't leave it down or else he'd step on it while he was walking or get tangled up while sleeping. It's still a bit difficult for me to refer to him as a "him" every once in a while.

"Hey, are you thinking of me as a girl right now?" Dark brown eyes nearly as black as the midnight sky. There was a gold twinkle lingering within them, showing that he was a little amused. But her anger showed through radiantly. We may have been best friends and flatmates nearly since we met, but this person, I know nothing about him. Only that even though it's a chick with boobs and long hair, she calls herself a boy. Never before had I met such a mysterious character.

"Mm?" I look up at her. "Maybe." Then I close the door to my room and take off my shirt, getting ready to shower before I head downstairs.

It's only when I already jumped in and was finally comfortable with the constantly-freezing-cold temperature of the water that there came a knock on the door. I poked my head out from behind the curtain to see a familiar face looking at me with a bored expression. I had to yell at Jack when he just blinked at me.

"What the hell do you want?"

"There was someone on the phone for you earlier."

A pause, waiting for him to tell me the name. No dice.

"Dammit Jack! Who the fuck was it? Their name, what was their name?"

"It was some kinda pureblood-slash-asshole dude. I think he went to school with you. What was his name...umm..?" Damn her short-term memory loss! Jack trailed off in thought, rubbing his chin, brows furrowed. But he needn't finish. I knew instantly who he was talking about. There was only one jackass pureblood that I knew personally and that was the one and only _Kaname Kuran_.

_Ah, I love the anime Bleach. I mean, when you're not watching it it seems stupid, but when you get into the six episodes in a row every Saturday night it's all like, "Fuck yeah!"_

_Er, uhm, yeah. I also enjoy Full Metal Alchemist and Kekkaishi. Ah. Saturday night anime is quite enjoyable._


	4. Ch 3 Momentarily Happy

**Welcome back loyal readers!**

_So here's the latest chapter. Here Zero finally goes on his date, but not after some unexpected events..._

_**?**_

_Disclamer(I decided I should have one): I do not own Vampire Knight, nor the characters used in this fanfiction. No matter how much I wish I did. Gosh! Where's a genie when you need one?_

_**?**_

_I _do_ own the OCs such as Dorris, Larry, Dahlia, and Jack._

_**?**_

___I've also decided to use these grey bar, spacer, section thingies instead of the disappearing dashes._

___**?**_

* * *

**Ch 3: Momentarily Happy...**

"So?"

" 'So', what?"

This kid...really knew how to grind on someone's nerves. I just shut the shower curtain again and dunked my head beneath the shower head once more, rinsing most traces of soap from my body. It was better to ignore Jack until I had my anger under control. The thing about him was that he _loved_ to rile people up. He loved arguing, getting into fights, and basically brawling over stupid things. One deep breath, two, and I shut the water off.

Making my way to the bureau that was squished into the corner right beside my tiny bed, I just pulled on some slacks, not even zipping or buttoning the pants, and ran out into the living area where Jack lay sprawled on the couched, already napping. The guy had a thing for napping whenever he got the chance. On the couch, in restaurants, while at other people's homes, when guests were over (which was rare), during missions, when he interrogated, etc. Jack basically had no functions other than napping and kicking ass. You see, when we're in a fight, he's as amazing as Devil Jin from the game _Tekken_. And for years, I thought that was impossible.

I went to the kitchen and picked up a can of sliced peaches that we happened to have stored in the pantry and lobbed it straight at the sickeningly sweet sleeping face. It connected with the giant globe of hot air that was Jack's head, making a very audible cracking sound and sending his whole body tumbling onto the floor.

"Gah! What the hell was that for?"

I crossed my arms and leaned my back against the thousand-year old fridge. He scrambled to his feet, rubbing his head in such a pitiful manner that I couldn't help but laugh in slight amusement.

"Your brained is already fried beyond repair. I don't think that will hurt it much."

I was met with a look that could even make the Devil's hair turn snow white. Lucky for me, my hair was already light as could be. Jack picked up the can and tossed it at light-speed toward my face. I ducked out of the way and the fridge ended up with a huge dent in it's door. I turned back to the kid in question who had plopped right back into place on the sofa, slightly dozing off. I was about to ask the question that permeated the atmosphere so thickly, when a knock came to the door, immediately followed by Jack's slightly nervous voice.

"You probably don't want to answer that." I quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh don't tell that's where you were all night? Out with some girl, making her happy, reveling in her joy, then taking it all away from her the next day by breaking her naïve little heart.

You do this every night Jack, a different chick each time. Then the next morning when they come knocking, begging for you to come back, you slam the door in their face. You have to admit, that's pretty low."

He just lay there, a pillow covering his face. I sigh and walk to the door as the knocking continues. Just as I touch the handle, however, I realize that it's not the sad and heavyhearted aura of a young girl who'd just been dumped, but the dark, bloody stench of something evil. My hunter instincts told me it could only be a vampire, but not a vampire in the entire world could ever make my body turn that rigid with fear, no matter how hard they tried. This wasn't a vampire, this was something else, something far worse.

"Jack...You didn't happen to go and have relations with a devil of some sort, did you? A devil's sister perhaps, and now he's come to kill you and collect your soul?" I gulped.

"Nope. I don't date the things I kill Zero, it's just not done that way. That was why I told you not to open it. If an idiot vampire hunter like you were to let in another type of monster when both of our guards are down, then we'd be fucked."

And suddenly he was shoving me in my room, telling me to get dressed and dried off before I came outside again. As he shut my bedroom door, I saw the kitchen knife tucked inside the back of the cargo pants and bra that he had, very quickly and quietly, slipped into.

There was the familiar sound of the lock on the front door clicking, and the old rusty creak of door opening. Jack's unmistakably defiant voice could be heard through the the paper thin walls of my room. Even in the darkest hour he was a fearless warrior, and it always made me wonder how exactly he was raised. It's not that I was a coward, but because I was half-naked and my roommate had likely barricaded me within my own room, covering the door with the heavy bookcase that was secretly stocked with guns and heavy spell books.

I reached for Bloody Rose, who had been laying quietly on the bureau for some time, waiting to be useful. As I touched it, the anti-vampire guard, which had never _ever _harmed me before, rang out and zapped my hand. There must have been something in the dark aura that surrounded the entire flat, some evil spark in the air that set her against me. There's no way my precious Bloody Rose would ever turn against me!

But I was still battling with the weapon when the sound of the front door slamming echoed into my room, rattling the bookshelves littered with books of spells and anti-vampire charms. The negative aura had gone away, and I heard a certain partner of mine tromping into the kitchen and opening the cupboard. I attempted and failed to touch the gun one last time before I went and tried to open my door, not at all registering the fact that there was a giant bookcase in the way.

"Hey, who was that at the d-" I stopped, looking at the massive hunk of wood that stood before the entrance to my room.

"There was no one there. I stepped out into the hall and looked all around, I even yelled to thin air, but there wasn't a soul on the entire floor. That aura was probably just a big-wig vamp flitting into the city via the tops of buildings so he could get to work or something."

But I couldn't help but think to myself, '_There had to be someone there, someone to knock on the door. I felt their presence. It was someone mean, someone icy. They were there, I know they were.'_

What did it matter? We had nothing to do with it, and it was only momentary, so maybe he was right. Regaining my senses I pounded on the wall. "Jack! Let me out, or you're gonna be sleeping in the bar tonight."

His muffled reply came from beyond the barricade, haughty undertone and attitude included.

"With the huge, pillow-covered couch, cable television, and fridge stocked to the max with food? Hm, well I'm sorry to tell you this Zero, but I don't think there's any chance I'm budging from this spot. And by the way Romeo, someone by the name of Dahlia is calling your cell phone as we speak."

The bookcase nearly broke in half and splintered into millions of pieces as my full weight tossed it with all the force of a thousand stampeding buffalo out into the middle in the apartment. Guns loaded with bullets and papers marked with alchemical patterns flew to the floor and into the air. Through the flurry of mathematical equations and clacking of heavy metal against the hardwood floors I made my way to the kid eating peaches on the counter and swiped what was mine from his hands, keeping it safely away from his sadistic intentions.

"You should know not to touch what isn't yours!" I managed to yell before the phone was once again at my ear.

"Moshi mo—ah, I mean, hello?"

"Ah, greetings to you Zero-san! I believe I've arrived at our decided venue. The question is, where are _you_?"

I stumbled, looking at my clothes (still just a pair of pants, now soaked completely through with water from the shower) and nearly yelling into the phone that I'd be there in three-fourths of a second, but that she should go on in the restaurant and find a table for us to sit at. Sadly it really took me a whole twelve minutes to dress properly in a polo and some old Levis and run a comb quickly through my messy mop of hair, all the while listening to Jack cackle menacingly in my direction.

"Who's the chick _Zero_?" He said my name in a drawn-out white-boy accent, literally calling me a loser. The _number _Zero, not my name. "Huh, is she hot? Maybe I'll take her out for a real date when you're done."

The last thing I heard when I walked out of the apartment was the sound of the doorknob hitting the stupid boy square in his thick skull. The hollow thump was enough to have me giggling all the way downstairs to the bar where the most beautiful flower in the world was waiting for me . . .

We hit it off on the first date. Ended up staying out late for hours and traveling to different bars, just drinking, and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Dahlia worked for an advertising company, something about making ads for cologne, business suits, even commercials for Rolex watches. She'd just dropped off a storyboard when she saw me in the elevator.

She told me that she first noticed my eyes. Dahlia had a thing for my eyes. Apparently the woman was attracted to them, couldn't stop thinking about me once she'd seen into my "beautiful pools of lavender-colored heaven" as she'd so kindly put it, even though her speech was a little more than slightly slurred.

She was cute when she was drunk. Always blushing, smiling, laughing. She giggled at everything I said, whether it was a joke, or if I just said it in a funny way. Our night ended when the sun began to rise. The faint fiery glow that began to gently set the eastern sky aflame signaled the end of our playtime.

Drunken me, stumbling slightly as he walked along, went with Dahlia all the way to her home, only fifteen minutes from Roscoe's. There we stood on her porch, my coat around her shivering shoulders as we watched the breaking of the inevitable dawn. We joked with each other for one minute before she took her keys from her purse and opened her door, opening it to the slightly sunlit apartment and it's emanating warmth. The laughter stopped, only to be replaced by a content silence as we looked into violet and lavender eyes.

"Well, this was a great night Zero. Thank you. I hope to do it again sometime." She smiled at me, and it was like a beam of sunlight in an impossibly dark cavern.

"Yeah. I'll see you, then." I stood and watched her, breathless as she slowly stepped inside and watched me. Slowly, I turned around and began to head down the steps of her porch when, only on my third step, she called out to me.

**?line?**

"Um, Zero . . ."

I looked back over my shoulder with a questioning gaze, but before I could ask anything I was pulled into a kiss. Her soft, warm lips were like silk against mine. Her thin, wiry arms felt strong as she wrapped them around my neck, leaning down on me, for she was perched at the top of the porch. It was a brief kiss, but it made me feel weak and lightheaded. But that was what love was supposed to feel like. Sickening, right?

I was dizzy as I walked home. My mind was flooded with thoughts of Dahlia and all her grace and beauty. Her mysteriousness and adorable charm. I made it back home and walked into an empty apartment. I wasn't surprised. I only saw that person maybe once every few months anyhow. So I made my way to my bedroom and collapsed on the mattress, completely drained. It only took me a few moments to fall into a deep sleep . . .

"Zero." It was a girl's voice.

"Zerooo . . ." It sang my name, sweet, like wind-chimes on a breezy day. " . . . Wake uuuuuuup."

I felt a tickle on my face. I swatted whatever it was away and buried my face in my pillow. My exposed neck was now met with a cold chill and more tickles. I shuddered and hunched my shoulders, groaning.

"Noooo. Just a few more hours," I growl at my tickle-happy alarm clock. I was having such a nice dream too. I was out with Dahlia, we were at the beach, having a picnic. But it was odd because the sun was out, and the ocean was blue, which isn't what Britain is known for.

"Come on, you're supposed to entertain me, little brother! After all, we haven't seen eachother since high school."

My eyes flew open...

**?the?end?**

* * *

_Dun dun dun!_

_To be continued._

_Now, who in the world would dare call Zero "little brother" of all things?_

_Oh my gosh. I've been cranking this whole thing out since 3am, so please excuse any mistakes and please please point them out to me. I don't have a beta, and I don't really want one, so just tell me where there's an error/plot hole/etc._

_~Kat_


	5. Ch 4 Demon Wings

**A/N 6/3/10:** _I _**_hate_**_ independence Day with a burning passion far worse than the burn of ten thousand hells. Idiot people don't know how to keep illegal fireworks out of city limits and set them off at all hours of the night! What a nuisance!_

**New A/N 6/11/10: **_._. Sorry for the wait. Completely unmotivated. Reason: There was soda in the fridge and perfect weather for hiking for hours on end. Once again, sorry._

_Oh yeah, and the song mentioned in here is called Hell Bent, by Kenna._

**?**

**Ch. 4: Demon Wings**

Jack's iPod, which he rarely ever left at home, must tumbled of the coffee table last night while I was out and landed on the floor. Somehow the "play" button had been pressed and it was cranking out very audible tunes through the blasting earphones. You could hear the thing in my room. It sounded just like the blood pounding through my very veins. A loud, constant rhythm, thumping away, magnified until it was all I could hear. Headache-inducing. Just one glance at the deep, red-tinted brown eyes was enough to send my heart racing, in the bad way.

The effect of blood rushing to my brain, and my lungs, and all other parts of my body, so loud and so quickly sent my nervous system out of whack, and next thing I know, I had thrown myself out of bed. I felt my skull knock against the sharp corner of an end table, sending my poor brain rattling against the inside of it's very own shield. Instantly I saw stars, and the world began to fade to black as I felt a huge migraine begin blossom in the back of my mind and blood trickled down the back of my neck. The last thing I saw in that room was the sight of her leaning over the side of the bed, staring at me with surprised, wide, _red_ eyes. Then I was out.

**?**

I woke to vibrations caused by a door slamming. Two strong auras permeated the air. There were two people in the room. And they were talking. What they were speaking about was beyond me. My eyes were shut, too tired be open them. It's was as if I could only distinguish the fact that there was _sound _in the room, but I didn't know what sounds they were. Like my ears were stuffed with cotton or something. But gradually the ability to hear returned to my body, and I was suddenly hit with a flurry of loud noises. Instantly I gasped and slapped my hands over my ears and curled into myself a little bit.

But there was one very familiar noise within the rest of the static that sobered me up a bit. There was a song playing, a man's melancholic voice, a hypnotizing electric beat. It was the song from Jack's iPod, the one he played so often when he slept. Even through the cover of my hands, I could hear it playing, the melody. Past the ticking of a clock, the electronic buzz of a television, the sound of a cat padding across carpet (all of which described a place that was _not _my apartment) there was the music.

Slowly, slowly, I lifted my hand's from my head and listened calmly. The people had stopped talking. Perhaps I had caught their attention. But as soon as I heard the song my heart rate slowed, comforted by the familiarity. There it was. I must have looked peaceful again, because they once again continued on with their conversation.

"Controlling me, controlling me . . . is losing me, you're losing . . control of me . . ."

Was Jack in the room then? Was he here? If his iPod was then he had to be. But why would he be here, in this strange place? The music suddenly stopped. I summed up just enough strength to slightly open my eyes, which was an effort in itself.

Laying on something soft. A couch. Wine-colored cushions that felt like clouds, soft pillows, and there was a silk blanket draped carefully over my body. But just seeing the color of the cushions, feeling the luxuriousness of the surroundings, just that was enough to tell me exactly where I was and just toward who my back was turned.

"I was just playing a joke, but this happened! And I almost drank it too . . . I feel like I need to say sorry." That was her voice. Still high-pitched and gentle as always. I don't know how anyone could adore and detest the same person, but that's how I truly felt about her.

"Enough Yuki, you needn't apologize for a thing like that." And suddenly my heart went into overdrive again. The sound of _his _icy voice was enough to make every cell in my body scream with hatred and fear and turmoil all at the same time.

I needed to find a way out. A way out of this room, a way out of the town, a way out of the country. I needed to find it _now_! I inched my hand down into the back pocket of my jeans and sought out my handy-dandy cellular device. I slid it up as quietly as possible, and tried to remember which button I pressed on the keyboard to get Jack on speed dial.

Success! I managed not to grab any attention as I found and pressed the button that would call Jack and have him rushing over to save me from one vampire encounter that I'd be happy to avoid..

"But it was my fault brother! I kind of . . . slipped into his house uninvited."

I hadn't noticed at the time . . .

. . . but in my search for the speed dial . . .

. . . . . . I had pressed the speaker button.

"That's still no reason to apologize. Worse has happened to hunters like . . ."

"_Hey there Casper! WAZZUUUUUUP!"_

I felt my face burn with embarrassment as I screamed the same sentence over and over again in my brain:

_My partner is an idiot, my partner is an idiot, my partner is an idiot . . . !_

In a matter of moments those predatory eyes that had burned themselves into my memory were staring down into my soul for the first time in years. He seemed to hold my wrist gently, yet it must have been an illusion on my behalf.

I was an open book to him at the moment. Trapped like some pitiful bird in a cage, caught in the hand of a cruel owner. I didn't want to be here. Last time we saw each other I told them never to look in my direction again. Evidently, they forgot.

He spoke, some of the ice in his voice melting away. "I was wondering why you were fiddling around in your pocket. Figures that you have one of these stupid contraptions."

I pursed my lips as he closed his hand around mine and snapped the keyboard shut, ending the call. My hand then fell to my side and we just stared at one another. My eyes almost definitely reflecting all the anger and hatred I once had (and still kind of hang on to) toward the two vampires. Both of them stared back blankly.

Only a few seconds had passed before the girl spoke up, trying to lighten the atmosphere somewhat. "Uh, Zero, about your head . . . I'm so-"

"Yuki," She stopped mid-sentence."What did I say about apologizing to him?"

She grew quiet.

"After all, it is Kiryu that should be offering his apology to you."

I suddenly became angry and started to yell. "Why the hell should _I_ be the one to apologize? I told you I never wanted to see your faces again! So if you don't mind, I'm leaving."

That was when I stood up, trembling slightly from the head injury, and tried to race as fast as possible to the nearest exit. I nearly brushed the doorknob when a familiar hand gripped my shoulder so hard that the nails dug into my skin, surely leaving traces of blood in little crescent-shaped marks, and slammed me into the wall, the concrete layers shattered and cracking under the pressure.

" . . . G-get . . off." I gasped for air as my lungs felt as if they were being squeezed. It really had been a long time since we'd seen each other. Otherwise my body wouldn't have even reacted to this kind of treatment.

"Brother! Don't hurt him!" Her scream pierced the air.

"If you ever dare to walk out again while I'm speaking to you, I'll not only hurt you, Zero. I will kill you. Do you understand me?" He spoke calmly, only inches from my face.

I started to laugh at him, thinking he was just being a stubborn jackass like he always was, but it turned into a gasp as my lung were being further constricted. Just a little more and I'd pass out again.

"Yes, but only you would know . . . just how much, ah, h-how m-much I love . . . to piss you off," I grinned, masking my pain as this vampire's hand crushed my throat. "Ugh!"

It was just when my vision began to blur that he growled and released me. I toppled to the floor, coughing. It seemed my only chance of leaving was earned by playing along. I gathered the rest of my dignity and stood up, wobbling slightly.

"You're condition has deteriorated, however, you no longer lust for blood. You're basically just a weak human once again. How interesting."

This time it was me who growled at him. "My body may not be as powerful as it may have been before, but I'll have you know, I'm one of the Association's best hunters."

He laughed haughtily, and the very sound compelled me to punch him square in the jaw. Like a voice whispering in my ear. _Do it, just punch him, punch him. Right in the kisser, right there. Hit him. No harm will come to you. Hit him. Do it, do it now. Just do it._

I felt my lip curl and my fist clench. Something inside me burned and roared, and it wasn't right. I'd never felt any hate this strong, anything that gnawed on the life inside of me this much. The only thing I wanted to do was hit this bastard, this guy who looked at me with those eyes. Those pitiful, angry, overbearing eyes. I really wanna sock him in the face now . . .

Next thing you know knuckles meet face and WHAM! I got him. And I got him good. But I didn't feel strong, and I didn't feel like a winner, even as I watched blood trickle from his mouth. The look in his bright red eyes told me I was nothing, made of nothing, wasn't gonna be anything. At least, once he was through with me.

I felt his aura change as he stood there, staring me down. I figured he was debating on different ways to tear me apart. I heard that girl cower in the corner as she continued to beg him not to hurt me. "Please, brother, don't touch him. He's just an idiot. Don't hurt him. It's my fault."

And I waited for the end, for that vampire to finally kill me, but nothing came. He just stared, and stared. So I took matters into my own hands and attempted to play my way out of these ten levels of hell.

I spoke up before he could answer her. "She's right, I _am _an idiot, and it _is _her fault. I want nothing to do with you two. I could easily live the rest of my short life never seeing your faces again. I thought I made that clear the last time we saw each other, but just in case, I'm telling you now."

I stopped, looking not only Kaname in the eyes, but _her_ as well.

"I'm _telling _you to never show your faces around here, around me ever again. I don't know your reason for bringing me here, and I don't care to hear it. Goodbye."

And with that I made my way to the door, but as I had barely touched the handle his voice rang in my ears, accusingly, angrily, and . . . a little bit sad . . . ? It was scary, hearing him speak in such a manner.

"Well, I guess it's too late to mention that we live next door to that dump of a bar that you call a home."

Body freezes. Eye twitches. Mind goes blank. I'm damn near having a heart attack, just before the door comes crashing down upon me, crushing me. Eye twitches again. I faint.

I'm on the floor, there's a hundred-pound door on me, and a hundred-something pound Jack on top of that. And _he _clad in a pink _**skirt **_and white _**blouse**_, is crushing me, while also declaring, "I will save you Zero-kun! Kyaa!"

END

**?**

**So this one took longer to write than usual, and it's way too short. Gomen.**

**I'm not sure if Kaname is a little OOC or not (probably), but I figure he wouldn't kill Zero because a) He loves Yuki and b) He and Zero are MEANT FOR EACH OTHER!**

**And yeh. Jack's her . . . er *get's manga tossed at head***

**I mean _his _usual quirky self. Meh. Next chappie up in about, oh, a month or so XD**

**(MOTIVATE ME PEOPLE.)**


	6. Ch 5 They're Really Close Friends

**A/N: **_You know, when you think out an entire story and you know what happens start to finish it's shocking to realize you've barely even scratched the surface of the plot when you read the fic XD_

_It's very very shocking to realize this._

_And when your updates are few and far in between . . . I bet you're all pissed now. Hee hee._

_I would be._

_Like: "Would you stop fucking talking and just make longer chapterz so we canz knowz everythingz plz?"_

_Heh, anyway. Here's next chappie. Enjoy. I know it's fuzzy because my writing skills are crap._

_Thanks for reading however! It's very happy-making to me and makes my life go from totally bogus to bubbly!_

_Okay, you may read now._

_"Katsu-la signing out!"_

_P.s. - If any of you noticed where I got all my weird slanguage and suffix from, don't you agree that "Pretties" is such a good book series? Like, totally amazing!_

* * *

**Chapter 5: They're _really_ close friends . . .**

******?**

"Zero . . . you have a . . . a girlfriend?" Yuki stuttered as she looked over the bodacious young child who had busted down their soundproof, three-inch thick, titanium door, even managing to take down the eight steel blockades bolting the door into the very stone blocks of the surrounding wall.

Kaname's right eye also twitched in confusion and anger as he looked upon the girl. He knew he'd seen her before, but where?

The face was youthful and slightly boyish, stating that she was still just a kid. An newborn infant, no, not even that, not even a fetus in the eyes of vampires. Her hair fell in curls, waves, and stringy lines of shiny straightness, all around her body, drifting past her feet and entangling her limbs. For a minute, Yuki's eyes lingered hungrily on the vision of the exposed neck, as well the the exposed shoulders as the girl's rough movement caused the shirt to fall very gracefully from them.

The vampire's' belly all but roared with lust (not only for blood, but other things as well) as her gaze drifted lower until it reached the embarrassingly tiny Catholic school girl skirt. Silky-looking black cloth could easily be seen peeking from underneath. The odd thing was, Yuki barely processed through her hazy conscience, that she brought with her no shoes, and not a single weapon, one that she could see anyway. But there was only once place she was looking at the moment.

And just like Kaname had done to Zero moments before, Yuki slammed the weak-looking body into the nearest wall and buried her face against the warm, throbbing neck beneath her. The veins were all mapped out under the thin layer of skin. The sweet smell of female blood drifted from a scrape on the child's exposed shoulder, not only sweet, but with the spicy kick of male testosterone to it. That wasn't the only irregular factor here.

The prey was not squirming, screaming, or struggling in any way. Her heart rate was —well, it was barely even there! It beat in her bountiful chest ass if she were a hospital patient in a deep coma.

That was when Yuki registered the sound of a gunshot, and her vision turned red as her own blood spilled into her eyes, making them sting with pain. This wouldn't kill her, no, absolutely not. But it hurt, and she stumbled dumbly to the ground, touching the right side of her head near her temple, looking like a startled puppy who'd been smacked harshly for the first time.

"I believe it was you that stole my music player . . . and my partner. Now," Yuki saw her lean her face down in front of her own, neck in close range, a sickly-sweet smile like a ghost upon pink lips. "I would like my MP3, and my dear friend Milky, back please, if you don't mind."

"Yuki, please, stand back . . ."Yuki felt Kaname's aura pulsing with pure anger. The temperature of the room dropped severely, and she shivered, watching her breath take form in the chilly air. But before the ancient pureblood could inflict any damage on his new enemy, Yuki held up one finger, signaling him to stop his rampage. She could feel his wrath still momentarily, questioning his love's unwillingness to destroy the very demon that assaulted her.

Yuki wiped the blood from her eyes and then leaned in close to the girl's abdomen, trapping her against the wall. Then she grinned, biting the hem of the tiny skirt.

"I'll give back your possessions, in return for something else."

"What might that be?" The girl's mouth still turned upward, as if none of this phased her.

There was a suffocating silence in the room as Yuki tried to catch a glimpse of the child's awkwardly averted eyes. Once she realized it was impossible to look the kid face to face, she stated her demands.

"You."

**?this-is-a-line?**

"Did you _really _have to smash me with the door? And I don't like them any more than you do, but you didn't have to go and shoot that woman in the head. Even though it's such a large, tempting target you didn't need to kick her in it either."

"I couldn't help it. It was kinda like her skull was just calling out for a thrashing. That other guy also sounded like he needed a kick in the ass."

"Oh, he does. Trust me. You know, if my body was still strong enough . . . I probably would set him straight myself."

"Hah! Yeah right. You don't know yet, do you? The secret about that Kuran boy, you really can't feel it in his presence?" Jack, smiling, looked over her shoulder, that trademark devious twinkle in her dark eyes. "You don't know _any_ of his secrets?"

_What is she talking about? I'm so confused ._._

But there was no golden glitter, and no amused shine. She was dead serious. And just as I was about to reply she turned away from me and yelled out.

"Ah! But you know something strange? It seems all purebred vampires are considerably perverted. It's like they have Superman's fucking **sex drive**. I'd sure as hell like to know where I can get some kryptonite."

"Hey, wait, what secrets? And for the last goddamn time they're called 'pure_bloods_'. If they were to be called purebred like dogs, then that would be like calling lowly things like me 'mutts'. As if the title of level D isn't demeaning enough."

There was a deafening silence as she turned away from me and looked out of the large bay window overseeing the narrow street and river beside it. Big Ben was sitting just across the way, the large bright clock face staring back at us. Right about now, it was the only thing lighting up the room.

" . . . But you know, Zero . . . I don't care what you are, or what you look like. We're both 'mutts' and outsiders in our own little worlds, and stuff. Aaaand . . . you know, I'd much rather be in company of a bunch of inbreeds and crossbreeds than some purebred asshole any day. So . . . I kind of wish you wouldn't look so lonely all the time. It's really depressing."

And suddenly I can't stop myself from smiling very faintly as she undresses. . . .

_And suddenly I realize what she's doing and can't stop myself from yelling like a mad man._

"What the- Hey hey hey! Stop that! Don't take off your skirt while I'm talking to you, you stupid idiot!"

I tossed the bottle of hand lotion kept conveniently on the coffee table at her and it bounced off her ass. To which she whipped around, skirt lying at her ankles, and stared at me with a genuinely bored expression.

"W-what? What's that look for?"

"You really don't have anything worse to call me? After all the things I've done, I think I've earned myself a title with a bit more vulgarity to it." And cue the awkward silence and staring contest.

After a couple of seconds the child sighed and walked over to the couch, slumping next to me in her actual matching lingerie set. I can't believe that's really all it took to distract me from the conversation. Another regret of mine.

"You know what _I _noticed?"

"Huh?" She looks up at me so innocently, like the young girl she really is. I relish these moments because I know that I'm probably the only person in the whole entire world who's seen this in her.

"What, what is it? Why do you keep staring at me? You're freakin' me out, dude!"

_I noticed that you're such an adorable little sister. Like a little baby penguin, hee hee . . ._

"Mm, no, no, never mind," I shake my head and I can practically _feel _her annoyance slapping me on the head. "Now, you did most of this to me, fix it and make it stop hurting before Dahlia comes over." I gesture to my bruised and abused body.

"No wait! Don't heal all of it!" I yell. "I have a feeling that she'll see these and baby me and that will lead to . . ."

"Shut up! Just gimme your hand for starters . . ." Suddenly Jack reached out to grab my arm and some sort of power unleashed itself on her and exploded in the air, blasting her body all the way into the wall on the other side of the room.

The wall was cracked in a pattern resembling smashed glass. Jack slowly slid to the floor, a trail of blood following and dripping down upon her head. I touch her face, checking to see if she's still awake, looking for any signs of consciousness. Once again there's a spark in the air and I realize I can't touch the girl at all without harming her again. Faster than the speed of light I find myself lying on the floor and she's on top of me, though not contacting my skin at all.

"What manner of trickery is this, you fool?" Jack's eyes have suddenly turned a dark, watery yellow color. Her voice is raspy, like she's had pneumonia and laryngitis simultaneously for months at a time and it all comes out as a furious growl.

"J-Jack quit! This isn't funny, it was just an accident! I don't know what —augh!" I can feel a presence firmly grabbing hold of my wrists. Like crushing hands digging into my skin and leaving bruises. I want this to stop. This feeling is weird, Jack's aura is weird.

"JACK!" There's a prickling at the edge of my eyes and I can tell that small tears of pain had involuntarily developed there, threatening to drip from my face. Fortunately it was those very tears that brought the hateful brown back into her very own eyes, where something else now drifted, something remorseful. She had stopped growling and the angry arch of her eyebrows had slowly turned back into their gently sloping arch.

"Sorry, the magic in that spell must have set me off. Sorry . . ." She quickly jumped off of me and I stood to watch as she pulled on her tan trench coat. Tying it around the waist she turned toward my direction and laughed awkwardly. But still, the kid maintained absolutely no eye contact.

"Jack, I . . ."

"Well! Uhm, I forgot that my association called me into earlier today, but I was too busy recovering my musical treasure from your vampires! Hahahah! So you tell your Hunters that I'm done working with them, okay? I gotta go, see ya!"

"Wait, Jack! Let's talk about this!" I don't think I'd ever seen somebody leave so quickly. " . . . Jack."

I heard her stomping all the way down the stairs, and I heard the kind patrons of the bar yell her name in merriment as they saw her, but as I looked through the window, I didn't see her silhouette on the street, nor her shadow anywhere outside.

_She must have used a medium to get to _that _association._

I must have been musing Jack's strange behavior for quite a while, because eleven o clock rolled around much faster than I expected. And there was a knock at the door, and a gentle woman's voice calling to me like a siren's song.

It was Dahlia. Everything became shrouded in a fuzzy pink mist and all that I could think about was her. My sweet black angel.

**[end]**

**

* * *

**

******Also:**

_Up above, about the slanguage and suffixes and stuff?_

_It's all from a very amazing book series set in the far future with mind-controlling nanos and bubbly-making new inventions all based in a new, super-human-like society!_

_It's a great read, and I tell ya, you're gonna be hooked in no time!_

_The series is called "Pretties" by the very not-bogus author, Scott Westerfield._

_Look him up. He writes all kinds of great books, if you're into sci-fi-yet-still-sounds-realistic type stuff. He even writes a book about vampires and mind-controlling parasites._

_Okay. We're done promoting now XD_

_Next chapter up: whenever._

**Katsu-la signing out!~**

******Note: **_Please don't forget to review! I get so discouraged if you don't ._._


	7. Ch 6 Another Date? Bleh! Too short!

**A/N: **_Not even gonna say why I haven't posted for so long. Bleh. So tired =_=;_

?

There was a knock on the door after Jack left. The hollow noise filling my ears and caressing my brain with painful tenderness. Though it hurts it seems like hours before the noise catches my attention. Before Jack left, he mentioned a spell. What spell? I didn't sense one, but it would make the skull crushing force that bashed him into the wall.

There was a knock once more and the voice that followed aroused my senses. My ears that had been drowning in the silence perked up, and my hazy, spaced out vision became crystal clear. An angel's soft, sweet whisper. Like heaven incarnate it was that woman at my front step.

"Dahlia!"

And like a lovestruck puppy I thumped my tail upon the floor and flew to the front entrance to greet my master. I opened the door and smiled brightly when I saw her standing there with her glistening ebony hair and porcelain skin. Rosy cheeks smiling up at me with an amused smirk. A black sweater and matching jeans. She couldn't look any more beautiful. My little black doll . . .

"How did you know where I lived?"

"Hmm? Oh, your roommate downstairs pointed me in the right direction. What a sweet girl she is, but she seemed to be . . . in quite a hurry."

For a moment I came to my senses, realizing that neither of the two knew what the other even looked like. How did Dahlia even know I had a roommate in the first place?

But as soon as my consciousness resurfaced I was pulled down once more into pink ignorance.

"Oh don't mind her, she's just really busy. Do you want to come inside? It's a bit of a mess, but-" I was stopped short by her soft lips on mine, and the sweet taste of her mouth.

"Zero . . . I want to ask you something . . ." Her voice was husky, and the tart sweetness of bitter, black coffee laced with sugar and vanilla greeted my mouth as she pecked me on the lips. Then she pulled away, a darling smile on her round, baby face.

"Will you ask me out on another date?"

**?thisisaline:)?**

_Pshaw, you thought there would be more than just a few lines of dialogue? Uh, no way. I've had this one page in my hard drive since the night I posted the last chapter. I'm sick of it being on here and I want to move on with the rest of the story so this goddamn fandom will exit my brain! AAH!_

_I love Kida Masaomi. He totally pwns every other character in Durarara, and I dun care what big sister (Meg) says. Ahahah. Well, I wouldn't expect quick updates because this school year is especially busy, but I really am gonna try **sigh**._


	8. Ch 7 The Most Evolved

**The Most Evolved**

I pushed through the glass door in the front entrance to Roscoe's. I had just spent a whole two weeks over at Dahlia's. It was great, we'd just been together the whole time, chilling, going on dates, watching movies. The romantic crap you see couples do on television. Normally, walking into my home would make me feel comfortable and refreshed, knowing that my bed was just one staircase away. But without Dahlia, I get this weird empty, chewing sensation in my stomach, like something bad is going on. Only Dahlia can fix it, make it better.

While I'm away from her I try to ignore it the best I can, but at the end of the day I always go running back into her arms. We've been going steady for a month now, and I've only come back home every other week. As I walk inside, I'm kind of glad to see a familiar sight. Mabel is there, wiping the bar with an old dishrag. She's the day waitress at the bar-slash-restaurant. As I walk in, whistling with glee as I go, she looks up at me with big, shiny green eyes, and a, surprised, but gleeful expression. Two old men eating at the bar jump with fright as she screams my name, her two light brown pigtails flopping around as she jumps with joy and skips over to me, rag still in her hand.

Mabel hugs me, her slight frame gripping me with all the strength she can muster. Usually, this would embarrass me, because her breasts tend to "bump" into my torso when she squeezes me, but now, it barely phases me after hugging Dahlia. I hug the girl back and look down at her.

"You seem especially hyper today, Mabel. What's gotten into you?" I ask.

Her cheeks flush slightly and she giggles. "Well, I'm always happy to see you Zero! And I thought you were up in your apartment all morning, sleeping, so I decided not to disturb you. But the music's been blasting all morning. Did you leave it on?"

"What? No, I didn't. It's probably Jack, I mean, she does tend to crank the volume when I . . .", I stop speaking as Mabel's eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. Her face contorts with bewilderment.

"What . . . what are you taking about Zero? Jack hasn't been home for two weeks. Both of you were gone the last couple of weeks. You came back last Sunday, so I assumed you were back. I thought she might have gone with you on holiday?"

" . . .What?" I didn't understand.

"Well, I mean, sometimes she's gone away for a week or two, because you said she attended boarding school, right? Well, she hasn't walked in for a couple of weeks anyhow. Is something the matter?"

My mind goes blank. I wonder, where could she be? Well, she's normally gone for a week or two at a time, but not without leaving notice. Jack, my roommate, my partner . . . my friend? Could that incident have done more to her than what showed on the outside? No, now's not the time to be thinking it over. I gotta stall, gotta think up a cover and get upstairs.

"Oh . . . oh, um right! I kind of pulled a blank there. She's at her grandmother's house in Wales. The old woman's sick, you see, and they were very close when Jack was young so she's staying there indefinitely. She won't be back until grannie's all better.

"And as a matter of fact, I do believe I left the music on this morning. My boss called me into work on my day off and I left in a rush." I could have slapped myself, thinking of how stupid that lie sounded. Could I have invented a cornier story?

But to my utmost surprise, the young girl fell for it. She fell like a stack of bricks. If all it took was some good looks and a husky voice to trick a woman in the first place, I'm not sure I hate vampires that much anymore.

"Ah, I understand now. I'm sorry if I scared you into thinking someone was in you apartment," _Which there undoubtedly was_, "But I was just curious. It is rather noisy. I tried to go in and turn it down a notch, but even when I unlocked it, the door wouldn't budge. Perhaps Mister or Mrs. Roscoe changed the lock and forgot to replace the key."

Two people walk in and she blinks in surprise. "Oh my, I've been slacking. Anyhow, I'll leave you to your business then. Have to work to make a living, you know!" Mabel waves a delicate hand and skips away, her frilled apron strings flying behind her as she goes to take a few orders from rude customers.

. . . Which leaves me to the task of dealing with whoever the hell's in my flat right now, blasting my radio. As I tread carefully up the stairs, I look up into the lighted corridor, listening as the music gets louder and louder. I can hear people walking around, shoes scuffling on the hardwood floor. Someone dancing?

I reach the hallway. My door's the last one on the left. I can see the silhouette of someone's feet prancing about. My feet don't even create a single vibration as I trudge the hall. Sliding one foot carefully into place on the concrete floor, then the next and the next. It's only a short amount of breathless minutes until I reach my stop.

Someone's on the other side. I know, because as soon as I touched the knob of the door everything, the music, the dancing, even the shadow disappeared. Now it was completely silent except for the anxious beat of my heart resounding like an overactive drum in my head. The rush of blood to my head gave me a sickening dizziness as I turned the knob. Pushing in, I felt my lungs contract like something was crushing them. And indeed, I believe there was an occult force at hand, pushing on my rib cage with much strength, trying to squeeze the life out of me.

The light of my trashed place illuminated the hall, exposing something awful, something I wish I hadn't seen. Clothes, papers, CDs, you name it, littered the floor. The pantry hung open, boxes and cans of food flung around everywhere. I could see a trail of Cheerios making a trail from the pantry to the nearest cupboard, barely hanging from its old brass hinges, where all the china and silverware strewn across the kitchen, creating a collage of broken bits of colorful porcelain and glass.

The room was too bright, shimmering with unwanted sunlight. The heavy curtains we had set up had been torn and tattered, completely and utterly ripped to shreds. The unforgiving light shone in brightly, momentarily blinding me. I stumbled in, rubbing my sore, nocturnal eyes, seeking momentary darkness to recuperate.

Something growls and I rip my face away from my coat sleeve. In the darkness of my bedroom, past the remains of my door, a silhouette of some kind of animal drifts in the deep black abyss. I tiptoe forward, peering in, wondering what the hell kind of beast could break in and do damage like this. As I get closer, the growling continues. I hear dripping in the bathroom, a leaky faucet, probably.

Suddenly, when I'm standing about a meter or two away from my door, two glittering slits of light, what very well looked like animal eyes, appear. They're shiny and yellow as one of those freaking giant sunflowers that grow approximately thirty centimeters a day. Something behind me groans as if it's in pain, but before I can turn the animal shrieks, and I have just enough time to slam the bedroom door shut before it charges into the wood, splintering it.

Then the beast shrieks even louder, and louder, and louder. I wonder just how many decibels the scream could be recorded at. It stops just as I feel my ears start to bleed. Blood drips down, and my ears ring like hell, but a chill creeps up my spine as the same thing behind me groans once more. It sounds angrier this time, less in pain, more hateful of the fact that it's even in pain.

The corner of my vision spots something standing near the coffee table. It's covered in black and red, and it's watching me with big eyes, and a heated gaze. I slowly turn around, so my back isn't facing this ghoul any longer. I'm looking at it now, just as it's looking at me.

This thing, the shape of a young girl. She's got waist length, curly black hair, and she's dripping in this black tarry goo. Shaking, trembling like a little chihuahua, her white dress is covered in blood. Black and red streaks decorate her pale skin, and she looks like a painting out of some demented artist's imagination.

Tears of red blood stream down her face and she groans as if she's in pain. "Wha . . . who-who are you? What happened to you?" I ask the child.

She trembles harder and sniffles angrily.

"What. Happened." I ask with more force, getting closer to her. Closer than I dare apparently, because withing five meters of her the tiny thing screams with rage and lunges at me. I see she has a sharp set of jagged teeth, like a little red-bellied piranha. Suddenly she's clinging to me. I feel her ice cold breath on my neck, as she leans in, ready to rip my throat out.

I can't move. All this has taken place within only a few minutes. It's moving too fast for my liking.

Her teeth prick the nape of my neck and I scream. The bite stings as she sinks in even deeper. I feel something pushing the blood from my vein, some invisible ghost stealing my life away. My blood burns like fire as it drips down my skin, staining my clothes. I feel sick, I'm paralyzed, I can't move. Soon, the girl fades away, bit by bit. I lay on the floor wondering what kind of little monster could chew through somebody's neck, and then disappear into thin air as soon as blood started to flow. However, as the young child goes I can hear a faint whisper in my ears, a sad siren's song, a wolfen cry in my bloody ears.

"_The beast has been unleashed, and now you have nowhere to run, little boy."_

I figure I've lost half of my blood supply before I hear somebody yell my name. Lying on the floor, dripping in crimson colored anguish, I feel the ghost child diminish, her scream echoing in my ears as she dissipates.

Next thing I know, I'm being held like a princess, clasped in warm arms. I cuddle into the warmth as much as I can, and whoever is holding me tightens their grip. I like the feel of their hands. It's so comforting . . .

"Zero," a soft, sweet voice calls my name ever so gently. Must be an angel come to collect my soul.

"Zero, speak to me please . . . what happened? Are you alright? No, of course you aren't but . . . please just speak to me."

I open my eyes and look into a deep chocolate brown ocean. Curly brunette hair frames a square jaw and supple lips call my name over and over again, gently shaking me.

It's Kaname. He's my angel.

**?thisisaline:)?**

_I kind of like this one. I was on a friggin **roll** this morning. Too bad school is my number one priority XD_

_I've been really into Disney movies as of late. My favorite has to be "Treasure Planet". In my opinion, pirates are total freaking win compared to fucking ninjas. And samurai are way better than ninja as well. Screw you, ninja freaks! **is getting contact high from fumes from neighbor spray painting his stupid car**._


	9. Ch 8: He's Been Watching U Zerokun oo

**He's Been Watching**

There's someone gasping for breath in the darkness, gulping it in and breathing at the rate of an average field mouse. It sounds like a little girl. I can hear her tiny, sickened yelps, sniffles and hiccups. Unintelligible cries of pain. I can see the silhouette of her chest rising and falling fervently, as if drifting in and out of an erratic, nightmare-filled horror of an archaic, disease induced fever. She's only a child, a young baby, roughly six years old. Her facial features and hair color are fuzzy. I can't get a good look at her, because shadow-like figures keep flickering across my "vision". It's too dark to really see anything at all, but somehow I can sense her body, I can feel it moving.

She rolls onto her side, curling up in the fetal position, feeling like she's gotta puke. Her tiny body convulses. I feel her hands twitch and her cracked nails dig into the earth. She heaves but nothing comes out. The breaths become ragged and she whimpers again. I can sense somebody watching her, not just me. Someone, something else. Standing in the dark, looming over her as she rolls onto her bruised, bloody back.

She notices the watcher too, because fresh tears of blood begin to fall upon the ground. The whites of her eyes are red and puffy, like she's being squeezed to death by some invisible power, and the blood in her head seeps from the lids of her eyes. Writhing in agony, sniffling in pain. I'm enraged.

Who could leave a sick child to die like this, in the darkness like some wild animal? For some reason though, my consciousness gains a type of mental flashlight. When shined upon her body, I see something I wouldn't have liked to.

The tiny, shivering body is covered in lashes, cuts, scrapes and large bruises. Her right arm is broken in such a way that a knife-sharp sliver of white bone protrudes from the back of her wrist. I can see individual bits of bone pushing out from inside of her flesh as well. It bleeds some type of black substance. Her upper arm is misshapen as well, but not as badly. The broken bones continue up until her collar bone, where it stops and meets some kind of tattoo, a separating line that more or less divides the halves of her body.

The left side of her, though bruised and bloody, isn't broken at all. But I can see that her nails have turned black and long, like a bird's deadly talons.

But before I can examine any farther, the watcher speaks to the girl in an unknown language. I can sense her body tense painfully in fear. She breathes faster, harder. I can't imagine how she must feel right now, so I shine my "flashlight" in the direction of the invisible person. They're suddenly before me, standing right beside her body, looking down. I see a black cloak that conceals their body. Pale grimy hands are the only things visible in the blackness, and at the top of an invisible neck, sits some kind of mask. It's just plain and white, but the eyes that look down at . . . _me_, not her, but the eyes that look at me are far from plain.

Anger flashes within gold and red flecked irises. They speak in a hissing noise, as if reciting poetry in serpent's tongue. Suddenly their arms raise up in the air and a small boulder appears in their hands. They stand, staring at me and the child for a moment before bringing the rock down upon the girls head . . .

**?thisisaline:)?**

My screams filled the darkness. I heard myself. I know it was a dream, but something's pinning me to the bed, keeping me from opening my eyes. The black tries to drag me back down into it's grasp, to put me to sleep, silence me. Something heavy sits on my chest like a lead weight on my lungs. My chest constricts, it's difficult to breathe. Hands, grab and swipe and claw, but meet nothing. In the end they're clutching the silky fabric of the bed sheets, loosing strength as I'm trying hard to gasp for air like the girl from the dream, but getting none.

I feel like a fish out of the water, flopping around on the ground, dying slowly.

Something draws sharp claws across my bruised neck. It's painful, and I can still feel blood dripping from the devil child's bite. There's a deep throaty laugh as an antarctic breeze drifts across my throat. My whole body shivers. I try one last time to breathe, just get one gasping breath into my lungs. I fail, and my body begins falling again. Not into sleep, but into a deathly unconsciousness.

I'm still in darkness, eyes shut tight, not able to see a thing. Not wanting to see in the first place.

As my hands lose their strength all the muscles in my body relax and my mind clears, I vaguely sense a rush of warm air as a door is opened, and the weight is lifted from my body. It's too late now, as I haven't the power to even think, let alone _breathe_. Somebody's muted voice calls out and it sounds like they're speaking to me from behind a brick wall. I'm gone now, my consciousness fully demolished, body out of oxygen.

The numb sensation of somebody's hands on my flesh, grasping the back of my neck with one, the other on my jaw. Something touches my lips and covers my mouth in an intimate kiss.

. . . Some type of liquid seeps down my throat and suddenly my body isn't lifeless anymore as it convulses and chokes. It's blood, I know the burning sensation anywhere. If a vampire has blood, they don't need to breathe. I haven't tasted fresh blood since my days in high school. I choke on it, trying to force it out, but my attempts to push them away are futile, since they just keep forcing it into me. I open my eyes, but everything is still so blurry that I can barely make out separate colors and shapes.

But this person isn't normal. The blood they're giving me isn't human. It has a spicy tang to it. A painful taste that soothes my burning insides as it goes down, and quickly reawakens my body. I don't like this. The recovery is too fast. \

In protest I raise my shaky hands up to shove them away, but they won't budge at all. Their hand moves from my neck to my lower back. They push my body down onto the bed and arch my back upwards so they have a better angle to work with. To any stranger who walked into the room, it'd probably look like we were kissing, and that really spurs me to life. _Just who is this? Who is giving me this blood?_

I try to fight back with anything; my teeth, my tongue, but if anything they push even more blood down my throat. I know it's dripping down my chin, my jaw, and neck. I feel it stain my shirt, pooling next to me on the bed. It's a sticky mess in my hair, and my captor's hands are slippery with the red gore. For a minute I still, thoughts drifting away from the person force feeding me. My mind flashes with the face of the poor sick child from my dream. Her eyes staring blindly up into the sky, as if waiting for a miracle. Then I think of the thing standing over us, and it's attempt to kill her. The the thought of it makes me shiver.

Suddenly something pricks my lip and pain rings out in all directions, and I moan, thrashing in anger. They're still trying to feed me the last of their supply, but I'm still resisting. I'd rather die than go back to being a goddamn blood-hungry vampire again. I drag my nails down their back, and they hiss in pain and curse at me. In a matter of seconds they've changed positions. Their body's pressing against me from between my legs, and I blush hard, knowing that they have me in a very embarrassing position, as my thighs touch the warmth of their stomach. I can't thrash or buck them off anymore. My hands are held securely above my head, tied to the bed post with some kind of fabric. I think it's a necktie.

They try again to feed me the last few drops of blood, but I'm not having it. I won't even open my mouth. I think I've won and that they'll go away and leave me to regain some decent quality of vision, but instead they cut a small opening in my shoulder with _their _own razor sharp nails. I gasp in pain, and that leaves an opening for them. I growl in anger as they manage to get me to swallow the rest of the blood. As they leave my lips I turn my head to the side, gasping for air. I slump in defeat, my high-strung body mellowing out now that I'd lost the battle.

My lip is still bleeding, I can feel blood trickling down my mouth. I wish I had an arm to wipe it away. I blink a few times, vision finally restoring itself more or less as I breathe heavily, pulling in as much air as I can. After that little breathing issue, I'm never going to take oxygen for granted again.

"Must you be so very difficult?" A familiar voice rings out.

My head snaps to attention and I growl. "What the hell do you think you're doing! What kind of a stunt was that?"

He blinks, unfazed, and looks into my eyes. I'm still yelling and tugging at my restraints when he leans down and touches my neck. My heart races as he runs his lips across the painful wounds, and I whimper involuntarily when his warm tongue meets my flesh. "S-stop, let m-m-me go . . ."

His smug laugh pisses me off as he whispers against my skin. "Why? Scared I'm going to bite you?" His teeth are touching my flesh, pressing harder and harder against the bloody bruise. I grind my teeth in pain. The bite must be infected or something, otherwise it shouldn't hurt this much.

"Oh Zero . . . You've changed. Normally you would have nearly blown my head off by now. And speaking of that," He finally raises his head to stare at me. "Where is your dearest Bloody Rose?"He smirks, but his eyes are dead serious. He's mocking me, with words, however, and he knows what's going on, that I can't touch my own weapon without being electrocuted by some invisible force field.

"I noticed you've been getting more than friendly with a particular girl, Zero. I've also noticed what she's already done to you." Kaname's voice becomes horrifyingly stern. "She's bad news. I don't want you to go anywhere near the wench ever again."

He was talking about Dahlia, my girlfriend. Just the mentioning of her name is enough to put me in a daze. "How the hell do you know about us?" I wish that the bonds holding my wrists captive would mysteriously break so I could strangle the stupid bastard. "Who the hell do you think you are, spying on my private life?"

"After I first found you two months ago, you didn't even sense my aura. You ran past me, and for once, I saw a real smile on your face. I thought you were incapable of any real emotion besides apathy, but you were happy living here. You were pure, and you had a good job and a friend that would be waiting for you at home now and then. I watched you be happy.

"I watched up until that day one month ago, the day you met _her_. The little tramp with the black hair who seems to have a 'keen' interest in you. She's done something bad Zero, and she's planning a lot more. I don't know why you can't see through her simple glamor spell. You can't see her true form. She's cursed you, and you have no idea. You're too blinded by love."

I listened to Kaname, my mouth agape at what he's been saying. Slowly, very slowly, I come to the realization of the awful truth.

". . . You're a fucking stalker, aren't you?"

**?thisisaline:)?**

_Meh. So I've been working on this before school the past couple mornings. It seems I've found something to do with my spare time between 4am and 7am. :D Who needs to make up homework? I can sit down and write a really long time in the morning. I'm sleepy and delusional, and that makes for better writings._

_God I wanna write a sex scene so bad! D: AAAAH! All I can think about in math class is these guys in a steamy situation. Like srsly. My math teacher called on me while I was yaoi-dreaming the other day and I was all like, " . . . _cherry flavored lube is $5.60 at Walmart . . ._" Oooh yeah, I'd like to leave it to your imaginations to think of how that ended._

_God my Algebra teacher is an _asshole! _He really must be from Los Angeles D:_

_Damn guy has no idea what the Rocky Mountains are. Jeez, the n00bz._

_Oh yeah, and if you like vampire movies, or foreign films, the Swedish horror, "Let The Right One In" is a very good movie. Just FYI XD_

~Katsu~


	10. Ch 9: Intermission I'm back!

I hadn't seen Zero in years. It had been so long since I ever even thought of the boy. So imagine the surprise I got when I happened to run into him while traveling in Turkey. It was two months before he met that woman, when I saw him running along the sidewalk parallel to mine. The poor kid was trying to hail a taxi cab in the pouring Istanbul rain. It looked pretty difficult, as he was juggling a few suit cases, an unopened umbrella, a jacket, and a camera case. I myself couldn't help but stifle a hoarse laugh at the sight.

It wasn't funny really. Standing beneath my black umbrella, in my dark coat and hat, I'm sure he didn't notice me. I have a tendency to blend in with the background. But I saw the condition of Zero's body.

His thin arms like sticks I could snap beneath my feet. Complexion sallow and pale, deathly, like a true vampire's. Hair the color of the purest snow, wet, glittering like a diamond in the rain. But despite all that, he had the oddest grin on his face. It was a little crooked, but it showed in those shimmering purple eyes.

"Like a ghost," I whispered to the air, the rain drops tumbling from the sky trembling as sound waves touched them. The white color of his body, reflected in the water on the street, like a wandering spirit, long forgotten, long dead, but not quite ready to face the truth.

I wanted to call out to him, to hear his voice again after so long. But I knew that if I did that, the damn boy would run for his life, tail between his legs.

And so I stood there, across the street. I watched him, continuing to check up on the Hunter every now and again. After a while I thought to myself, "What am I doing? This isn't how it's supposed to be..." but I could not for the life of me purge his image from my mind. During the long hours of night my restless thoughts were plagued with his smile, his scent. Echoes of his voice from years past. Regrets, things I should have done, shouldn't have said that could have prevented me from this spell of his.

Yuuki often talked about Zero, her closest friend and brother. How she missed him so, wished she could have seen him too. "Just a glimpse," She said, before returning to her place of comfort, a park down by the seaside, where the boats were just barely visible on the horizon, silhouetted against the setting sun.

After a few hours, I left too, and joined my dear sister as she watched the waves rolled in the water. Ever reaching toward the moon, only to fail and fall to their demise. We sat on the beach, water rolling up and caressing out bare skin, naked ankles. We sat for a long time.

It was finally when the tide began to seep back into the ocean that I broke the lonesome silence.

"He lives with a kid, a girl. I saw them meet up at a cafe once. She doesn't seem to be a vampire hunter, but she does help him with his missions on occasion."

"...Ah."

"I was thinking, Yuuki...that we'd go see him."

It got quiet.

I looked over to see her staring into my eyes, confounded, wondering if I was being truthful. I reached out and touched her face. "Why would I be lying? We leave for London tomorrow evening..."

And with that I stood, brushed the sand from my pants, and started back towards the hotel.

_Zero, how have you become so different from your normal self, I wonder?_

&&&**theendlolzseeyeguyssoon**&&&

I know I've been gone a while. I just wanted to post this to let ye guys know I'm coming back, REAL soon. Love you all! Great to be back!

Byeeeee!

Please R&R **love**


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